Making Sense of Horror

Making Sense of Horror

  Wade Page Sometimes it takes a really big story for us to see what news organizations of size and muscle can do in a way that no other communications medium can. And sometimes it takes a tragedy.   Although this space is more typically taken up with criticism of the local news establishment, this week I’m mostly setting that role aside.   In the aftermath of Sunday’s horrific carnage at the Sikh Temple in Oak Creek, it’s important to say what I would hope is obvious to even the most casual consumers of news: This community is frankly fortunate…

 
Wade Page

Sometimes it takes a really big
story for us to see what news organizations of size and muscle can do in a way
that no other communications medium can.

And sometimes it takes a tragedy.

 

Although this space is more
typically taken up with criticism of the local news establishment, this week
I’m mostly setting that role aside.

 

In the aftermath of Sunday’s
horrific carnage at the Sikh Temple in Oak Creek, it’s important to say what I
would hope is obvious to even the most casual consumers of news: This community
is frankly fortunate to have, despite repeated cuts in staff, despite repeated
cutbacks in coverage, and despite, at times, maddening editorial choices, a
strong and well-edited daily newspaper in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel.

 

Pressroom Buzz’s Most Loyal Reader
and I weren’t watching television on Sunday afternoon, but instead preparing to
visit family in Illinois. Our first indication of the tragedy unfolding just 25
minutes from our home came via Twitter (the two of us just this summer joined
the always-connected generation with his-and-hers smart phones) – a breaking
news Tweet from JSOnline. Then, with WUWM on to the Sunday rerun of A Prairie
Home Companion, Ann-Elise Henzl
broke in with the first broadcast report.

 

From the beginning the news was, of course, sobering, but with
longstanding plans for a family picnic that afternoon, we were unable to stop
and keep up then. So in the hours that followed, we were pretty much out of the
loop. But as we drove home Sunday evening, me at the wheel as PBMLR caught up
with the day’s events on her phone, reading aloud excerpts from the stories she
encountered, we found ourselves by turns shocked, saddened, dismayed and
depressed.

 

But also, in a strange way, heartened.
Barely eight hours after the events occurred, with much information still
incomplete, we nonetheless got a concise roundup of what was known up to that
point thanks to the Journal Sentinel’s online feeds. (I especially appreciated
religion reporter Annysa Johnson’s early
summary of the Sikh faith, helping to put in further context some of the day’s
events, which later became the core of a more
fleshed-out feature
in Monday’s paper.)

 

In Monday’s paper, there were clearly
presented, readable and gripping accounts of the maelstrom, sidebars bringing
the human drama of the events closer to us. And in the days that followed, so
did much more coverage: carefully reported and
assembled details
about the victims, the shooter, and the respective
cultures to which each belonged: the peaceful, proud and vibrant Sikh faith,
and the twisted miasma of hate that constitutes the White Power movement in
which killer Wade Michael Page had
marinated in the years leading up to that bloody Sunday morning.

 

Among the many standout pieces: The
quick sketch
by Meg Jones and Karen Herzog of fallen Oak Creek Police
Lt. Brian Murphy. There is a degree
of authority even in that short profile that reflects both reporters’
experience, particularly that of Jones in covering military issues and
personnel in Wisconsin. It is a small but pointed reminder of the value that
can only be gained by giving reporters time to really get to know the slice of
the world they cover.

 

This was good, old-fashioned
shoe-leather reporting, pulling together many discrete elements to make sense
of them, then forging them into a series of coherent narratives that would
transfer that same sense to readers. Yet new media had its role, too, evidenced
by the Storify
account
that the JS assembled as
the day wore on.

 

In his online column Journal-isms, which covers minorities in
the media, Richard Prince pointed
out this week another strength in the MJS
coverage: the way a
diverse editorial staff
helped contribute to the thinking in the newsroom
as stories and angles were assigned in the coverage.

 

I know there’s been criticism (including from a viewer who
contacted me directly) about the broadcasters having rushed on the air with
unverified details – erroneous reports of multiple gunmen, claims that possible
hostages had been taken, and worse, real-time tracking of police tactical
actions in response to the incident. (Duane
Dudek
again showed his
chops
with his swift review of the ups and downs of TV news crews’ reports
throughout the afternoon.)

 

At a time when, as far as anyone
knew, there were as many as four assailants – thus, perhaps, two or three still
stalking the Temple looking for prey – it does seem the height of carelessness
to have gone on the air (as some TV reporters apparently did) and broadcast the
fact that some of the potential victims had holed themselves up in closets or
bathrooms for safety.

 

But even in that, I find a certain
degree of good news: Police quickly expressed their
concerns
, and news organizations listened and acquiesced to the very
reasonable requests to pull back on their coverage, avoiding images that might
end up compromising the safety and effectiveness of law enforcement officers
trying to contain the situation. The care that media personnel took once
alerted to the potential hazards of their actions “was greatly
appreciated,”  as one law enforcement
spokesman told me.

 

The stupidest moment in coverage?
In my book it’s a Tweet, early on, from a grizzled Newsweek veteran who was nowhere near the scene and opined without
the slightest hesitation, or evidence, that the shootings could have erupted
from some kind of internal dispute among Temple members.

 

Here at Pressroom Buzz, it might often seem that our mission is
little more than criticizing the foibles of the local media. From our
comfortable keyboard and afforded the luxury of second-guessing, it’s pretty
easy to find what’s going wrong inside the pages and on the broadcasts of what
have traditionally been our primary sources of information about policy,
politics and daily life in this community.

 

And it’s a mission I will happily
defend – one borne of a love for journalism and an idealism about what it can
and should do for the betterment of our society and our democracy. When readers
complain to me, or I complain even without their help, about the way stories
are covered or ignored, it reflects that they, and we, fundamentally care about
the institutions that help us make sense of the world. We want them to be
better.

 

But I’ve never believed – and for
the most part, the serious press critics, professional and amateur alike, whom
I’ve come to read and speak with over the years don’t believe either – that a
world of basement bloggers, freelance YouTube creators and passionate Twitter
curators can truly take the place of well-trained, thoughtful and thorough
professional journalists supported by strong news organizations and given adequate time and resources to do their work.

 

The news business may be undergoing
a cataclysm with an outcome that’s still unknown. But if it ceases to exist
entirely, something will have to replace it.

 

Sunday’s events, and the coverage
that rolled out in the days that followed, showed just how hard that would be.

 

*

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Milwaukee Magazine Contributing Editor Erik Gunn has written for the magazine since 1995. He started covering the media in 2006, writing the award-winning column Pressroom and now its online successor, Pressroom Buzz. Check back regularly for the latest news and commentary of the workings of the news business in Milwaukee and Wisconsin.